Revelations
by Marik 18
Summary: Ismira Katrinadaughter has been raised knowing that her uncle is gone forever. But when an egg is introduced into her life, someone is taken from her. Now, will she risk everything to bring them back, or will the threats of the land make sure she never sees home again? I do not own anything, and many spoilers on the way. Please comment with reviews and any ideas you have. Thank you
1. Prologue: Goodbyes

Prologue: Goodbyes

_By the light of the pale moon, the vessel looked like a swan ready to take flight from the wide, slow-moving river and carry him into the vast unknown. The elves had lowered its sails, and the sheets of fabric gleamed with a faint sheen. A single figure stood at the tiller, but otherwise the deck was empty._

_Past theTalíta , the flat, dark plain extended all the way to the distant horizon: a daunting expanse broken only by the river itself, which lay upon the land like a strip of hammered metal._

_A tightness formed in Eragon's throat, and he pulled the hood of his cloak over his head, as if to hide himself from the sight._

_They slowly rode down the hill and through the whispering grass to the pebble beach by the ship. The hooves of the horses sounded sharp and loud against the stones._

_There Eragon dismounted, as did the others. Unbidden, the elves formed two lines leading to the ship, one facing the other, and they planted the ends of their spears in the ground by their feet and stood thus, statue-like._

_Eragon looked them over, and the tightness in his throat increased, making it difficult to breathe properly._

_Now is the moment, said Saphira, and he knew she was right._

_Eragon untied the casket of gold and gems from the back of his horse's saddle and carried it to Roran._

"_This is where we part, then?" Roran asked. Eragon nodded. "Here," he said, giving the casket to Roran. "You should have this. You can make better use of it than I.… Use it to build your castle." "I'll do that," said Roran, his voice thick. He placed the casket under his left arm, and then he embraced_

_Eragon with his right, and they held each other for a long moment. Afterward, Roran said, "Be safe, Brother."_

"_You too, Brother.… Take care of Katrina and Ismira."_

"_I will."_

_Unable to think of anything else to say, Eragon touched Roran once more on the shoulder, then turned away and went to join Arya where she stood waiting for him by the two rows of elves._

_They stared at each other for a handful of heartbeats, and then Arya said, "Eragon." She had drawn her cowl as well, and in the moonlight, he could see little of her face._

"_Arya." He looked down the silvery river and then back at Arya, and he gripped the hilt of Brisingr. He was so full of emotion, he trembled. He did not want to leave, but he knew he must. "Stay with me—"_

_Her gaze darted up. "I cannot."_

"… _stay with me until the first curve in the river."_

_She hesitated, then nodded. He held out his arm, and she looped hers through his, and together they walked onto the ship and went to stand by the prow._

_The elves behind them followed, and once they were all on board, they pulled up the gangplank. Without wind or oars, the ship moved away from the stony shore and began to drift down the long, flat river._

_On the beach, Roran stood alone, watching them go. Then he threw back his head and uttered a long, aching cry, and the night echoed with the sound of his loss._

_For several minutes, Eragon stood next to Arya, and neither spoke as they watched the first curve in the river approach. At last, Eragon turned to her, and he pushed the cowl away from her face, so that he could see her eyes._

"_Arya," he said. And he whispered her true name. A tremor of recognition ran through her._

_She whispered his true name in response, and he too shivered at hearing the fullness of his being._

_He opened his mouth to speak again, but Arya forestalled him by placing three of her fingers upon his lips. She stepped back from him then and raised one arm over her head._

"_Farewell, Eragon Shadeslayer," she said._

_And then Fírnen swept down from above and snatched her off the deck of the ship, buffeting Eragonwith the gusts of air from his wings._

"_Farewell," Eragon whispered as he watched her and Fírnen fly back toward where Roran still stood upon the distant shore._

_Then Eragon finally allowed the tears to spill from his eyes, and he clutched the railing of the ship and wept as he left behind all that he had ever known. Above, Saphira keened, and her grief mingled with his as they mourned what could never be._

_In time, however, Eragon's heart slowed, and his tears dried, and a measure of peace stole over him as he gazed out at the empty plain. He wondered what strange things they might encounter within its wild reaches, and he pondered the life he and Saphira were to have—a life with the dragons and Riders._

_We are not alone, little one, said Saphira._

_A smile crept across his face._

_And the ship sailed onward, gliding serenely down the moonlit river toward the dark lands beyond_

Roran fell to his knees when Arya flew back to him, the gold and the jewels thrown to the side, forgotten in his grief. Arya knew how he felt, since she couldn't bare the thought of losing Eragon. He had been the one to save her from Gil'ead when Durza had captured her. He had been the one to fight Durza to protect the Dwarves and her. He grieved over the loss of Orimis and Glaedr just as terribly as the elves. He helped her kill Varaug. He had become the closest thing to her since Fäolin died. And now he was leaving.

Roran finally looked up at Arya. Looked up at how calm and serene and at peace she was. Roran rose and charged Arya, angered that his cousin was leaving and she couldn't even shed a tear. He roared as he tackled to the ground.

Arya, taken by surprise, did not know to fight back or let the broken human let his grief out. Instead, she just lay there.

"Eragon is leaving forever and you can't even shed a tear for him!?" Roran started raining down blows, not trying to injure or kill, but trying to make a point. Arya received the blows, asking Fírnen not to interfere.

"He loved you! Couldn't stop thinking about you! And you can't even shed a tear!?" He continued raining down blows, his emotions running wild. Arya still just took the blows, knowing the worst he could do was cause a bruise. After a few minutes, he stopped, walked to the water, and watched the receding figure of the boat sail away.

He roared again, the pain at losing his brother all too real. Arya sat up, and watched the boat sail away. Her emotions ran high, almost breaking free of the control she had over them.

When the boat disappeared, Roran stood, walked to the forgotten chest, picked it up, and then got on the horse that Orik supplied for them. "It is time that I went home. Away from here." Arya nodded, and mounted her own horse.

She let Roran ride in front of him, asking Fírnen to fly overhead. Distancing herself from him, she then allowed the tears to fall. She didn't make a sound, but she allowed her pain to show. She could still here Saphira's wail of sadness, and could only imagine what that meant about Eragon.

"_What is wrong, partner-of-mine-heart?" _Arya quickly wiped her tears and looked up at Fírnen, who flew with his head looking back at her. She smiled slightly, since he knew, even with her distanced as far as she was from her dragon, that her heart was breaking with every step and every gust of wind that blew Eragon farther and farther away from her.

"It is nothing, Fírnen. Just an old woman dreaming." She looked back to the river, and silently whispered Eragon's true name. The name seemed to buzz on her lips, just as when she drank Wyrden's faelnirv with Eragon when Nasuada was taken by Murtagh during the war. Was that only a few months ago? It felt like a life time away now.

"Stay safe. Keep warm. And fly with the sun at your back. Maybe one day, you'll come back to me."

Within hours, another boat was sailing them back into the heart of Du Weldenvarden, to Ellesméra. Fírnen flew straight to the Crags of Tel'naeir when they arrived, and did not return for weeks. Roran and Katrina decided to stay, if only because traveling on horse with a baby was the same as walking to the Ra'zac unarmed at night and asking if they could come for dinner.

Arya spent the time that Fírnen was gone to distance herself from his pain and let her own show past her emotional shield.

For days, she wept silently in her rooms, begging in her mind in the Ancient Language why he had to go. She knew what he had to say. She even agreed with him that it was necessary. But she lost the only man who came close to understanding her. The only man who loved her so fiercely and purely. The only man whom she had fallen in love with.

When Fírnen finally returned to Ellesméra, Roran and Katrina packed everything they had received while on their travels through the dwarf lands and the elf lands, put them on horses, and kindly asked a few elves if they would see to it that the belongings reached Carvahall safely.

Arya waited another week before she showed herself. Her people immediately welcomed her with soft songs of loss. In the eyes of Roran and Katrina, she stood regally, as only a queen could, and showed no emotion to the song. They knew not the words, but could understand its meaning. In the eyes of the elves, she shouldered this loss as only a Dröttning could for the sake of her people. But inward? She was an emotional wreak, wanting nothing more but to look up and see Saphira flying down upon them with Eragon on her back to stay with her. But wishes didn't come true.

She flew Katrina, Roran, and Ismira to Carvahall, where the villagers were already planning and building Stronghammer castle. As she landed, she knew that both Roran and Katrina didn't like her for the show she was forced to put when she revealed herself to her people just that morning.

As they dismounted, she spoke for the first time since Eragon left. "Just so you two know, I wept harder for Eragon than I did for my own mother." They both looked up, not believing the elf. Arya bowed her head, allowing her hair to hide her face from the two. "If that were true," Roran said, "you would have truly wept for him, instead of standing in front of the elves and sitting there on your dragon with no emotion at all.

A small rumble replied Roran, as Fírnen turned his snake like head quickly to direct on of his eyes to Roran. "Do not insult my Rider, Roran-friend-Stronghammer. I do not take kindly to that." He opened his maw up slightly, letting the green flames be visable through his fangs.

"It is alright, Firnen. They do not know my heart as you do, or as Eragon does." Arya said aloud, raising her head so that her hair was out of her face. Katrina had not truly met Arya, and neither had Roran, but both knew that elves rarely showed any emotion of any kind.

The tears on Arya's face continued to fall. "I am absolutely devastated that he had to leave us. Nothing can describe how I feel. So do not say I did not weep for him when even now, I curse Galbatorix for overthrowing the Riders, and I curse men, dwarves, Urgals, Kull, and elves for being selfish, for it is their selfishness that led Eragon to leave to protect the eggs and the Eldunarí. I loved him. As a comrade. As a friend. And if time allowed it, as a husband and a king. But I do not get what I want. I do what is needed for my people, and that is all. So you grieve in your own way, and I will grieve in mine."

Firnen turned to fly off, when Roran said, "I did not mean offense, Lady Arya. I only meant to say that the last family I had outside of my wife and child has left, and the one that he cared about more than I stood there and did not shed a tear while I throw myself into the dirt at losing my brother after having lost my mother to her illness and my father to the Ra'zac."

Arya turned her head, nodded to him and said, "I understand what you mean, and do not take offense to what you said. I just know that you are angry with me for trying to cope with the loss of the closest thing that I had that resembles what you and Katrina have."

Roran bowed his head, and asked for forgiveness again. Arya pardoned him, then flew off on Fírnen's back. While flying, she gently directed Firnen, and landed close to where she and Eragon met the spirits. She spent an hour sitting there, admiring the golden lily that Eragon had given her, which the spirits had blessed. A faint smile was on her face. She looked up into the sky, then to the East, in the direction that Eragon went.

"Goodbye, Eragon. Maybe I'll see you again. Someday.


	2. Visitors

**Title: Revelations**

**Author: Marik 18**

**Summary: Ismira Katrinadaughter has been raised knowing that her uncle is gone forever. But when an egg is introduced into her life, someone is taken from her. Now, will she risk everything to bring him back, or will the threats of the land make sure she never sees him, or home, again? I do not own anything, and many spoilers on the way. If you have not read the series, where is your shame?**

**A/N: Thanks for everything, guys. I'll keep writing. I'll post "Chapter 2: Reunion" on one condition. If I could have 15 views and maybe even a comment or two, of whatever you wish to say, it would be much appreciated. Thanks again for all the support.**

Chapter 1: Visitors

"Ismira! Hold up! You know that your father wouldn't want you getting hurt in the Spine!" Jeromir called out. Ismiria looked back at the man she had been raised with and smiled. Ismiria looked out over the waterfall and waited for her closest friend. When Jeromir stood by her side, they looked over Palancar Valley.

"This must be where they camped when they escaped into the Spine." Ismira said. She had heard the story from all of the elders who were alive during the war 17 years ago. She could almost picture the thick wood wall that the villagers built. See the camp of the soldiers of the evil tyrant Galbatorix. She clenched her fists, a well of emotion and pride overflowing in her heart. She reached down to her dagger, pulled it out, and stabbed the nearest tree.

Jeromir saw what she did and waited. He knew that she would get into these types of fits, crying and angry that men would harm her people. Her family. The last one he was witness to, she swung an ax into the dirt where her father and uncle grew up with her late grandfather, may he rest in peace.

When she finally calmed down enough, he walked to her side, and held her. Ismira cried into her friend, angry that anyone dared attack her home. She wept into Jeromir until she had wept herself dry. It was only then that Jeromir held her chin, tilted it up, and whispered, "The past is in the past, my love. Focus on today. You are here with me. Your father and mother are safe. Your brothers and sisters are happy. Carvahall is protected by Stronghammer Manor, and Palancar valley is just as secure as Ilirea. Nothing can harm you here." He then softly kissed her, and she him.

It had been 17 years since the downfall of Galbatorix. 17 years since Eragon left. Since then, the country as a whole had grown. Aberon and Ilirea had become the closest allies. The dwarves had opened trade with the humans, opening their cities to the humans so that they may learn the culture and history of the stout dwarves that were a key part in the final days of the war. The elves stood were secluded, but now allowed several humans that they deemed ready to enter their forest home in Du Weldenvarden and study where they wished in the home of the elves. In short, life was getting back to when the Riders' were still strong.

Of the Riders' themselves, only 5 have returned from their training with Eragon Shadeslayer, the greatest of all Riders. A human, a dwarf, two elves, and an Urgal. Together, alongside Arya, the only Rider that was in Alagaësia during the training of these Riders', masons from the dwarves, elves, Urgals and humans, made their halls all around the country. As of right now, there were 3 completed and a fourth being built. The old Rider outposts and sentry posts where being torn down and rebuilt to last another millennia.

It was in this time that Ismira found herself, holding the man that she grew up with, the man she loved. When they finally broke from their kiss, Jeromir grabbed her dagger, returned it to her, and then said, "I'll race you down to the Manor." With a smile, Ismira pulled him close as if for another kiss. When Jeromir reached down for the kiss, she pushed him over a log and was off running. Jeromir got back to his feet and started chasing after her. Laughter rang through the air as both of them ran down the path back into Carvahall.

The new city was getting ready for a festival. Stronghammer's banners were flying in the air, food was being cooked, and hunters were returning from the Spine with their kills.

As the two ran past, many of the people smiled at the young couple. Those who lived through the war smiled as they remembered a time when Roran and Katrina were like their daughter and Jeromir. All of the people called out good wishes on Ismira's 18th birthday on the next day.

The young couple ran into the Manor, still running as if they were children again without a care in the world. They ran until they made it into the court room. There, they finally stopped. Ismira and Jeromir, both out of breath, smiled and laughed. When she could finally speak, Ismira said "I win. Again." And that was received by a kiss.

The kiss was broken when they heard a soft thudding in the air. The sound had become familiar throughout the land as the sound of dragons. Ismira looked out of the window and saw Fírnen, flying towards the castle.

Ismira knew what it meant and ran to the gates. As Fírnen landed, her majesty Arya Dröttning got off of her dragon and smiled to the young woman. Ismira threw herself to the elf in a hug. "Welcome back, svit-kona Arya. What brings you back to my home, may I ask?" Ismira tried to hide a smile, but the elf woman had seen this young woman grow from a babe, and knew when she was lying.

"Of course you know what I mean, young one. Your Birthing Day is tomorrow. Of course I came for the celebration. And I brought along a few old friends."

Riding around Firnen, King Orik of the dwarves, King Orrin of Surda, and Queen Nasuada of what was the Empire all waved in good faith, both to Ismira, and to her parents who just appeared by the door way. The old friends and warriors met up by the doors and spoke as only old men and women could. Speaking of the past.

Roran Stronghammer, the Earl of Palancar Valley and the Lord of Stronghammer Manor, invited them into his home to relax and speak of the old days. They spoke for hours. About the war, about the new Riders, about the struggle with the spellcasters, before the topic that Ismira wanted to hear about finally came up.

"So. Any news from Eragon?" Her grace Nasuada asked. Orik combed his hand through his beard, which had been braided. "No. I have not heard word from the lad in almost 6 months. I'm beginning to get worried for the boy." "Ha. He is no boy," the drunk King Orrin said. "That man-elf could fight and defeat everyone at this table. Even you, Arya." Arya simply nodded her head. "I have not heard word of him either. His letters suddenly stopped about 3 months ago." Arya kept her head high. Ismira wondered what was going on in that elven head of hers. Nasuada turned to Ismira and her mother and father. "Roran? Have you heard word from your cousin?" Roran shook his head. "No. I have not heard from my brother in over a fortnight." At this the others, even King Orrin, sat up immediately.

"What was it that he said?" "Have the dragons gone loose?" "Will the new Riders' be ready and sent over?" "How has he been?" "Where did he go?"

Roran held off all the questions. When the dignitaries finally calmed, Roran finally spoke. "He simply scryed me and asked me how long it had been since Galbatorix fell. I told him 17 years, and he said it felt like a life time ago. I agreed with him, there was an explosion, and he cut off before I could ask what happened."

They all nodded. "The boy has a lot on his hands and his mind if he has stopped speaking to all of us." Katrina said. They took a deep breath, then relaxed and started to speak again about politics and such when the thudding began.

The dragons had been by here enough that Ismira that she could name each dragon and its Rider just by the thud of its wings. She prided herself in such silly games, ever since she could remember.

However, the thudding they heard now was unlike any dragon they had met, and they had met all six. This dragon sounded bigger. Ismira ran to the Keep, and ran onto the balcony to see the shadow of a dragon unimaginably large fly past Stronghammer Manor. Fearing the worst, Ismira gripped the stone in front of her. The shadow seemed to be the same size and color as Shruikan, the dragon that the mad king stole before his reign.

She feared for her father. The famous Roran Stronghammer was the one who defeated Lord Barst during the attack on Urû'baen.

The dragon made another swoop and finally landed outside the Manor walls. Much to Ismira's relief, the dragon was not black, but rather a bright dark blue, almost like the saphires that she had in her room that were a gift from her uncle.

Her father and mother immediately appeared by her side. The dragon looked straight at the three on the balcony, and roared. Ismira paled, but both Roran and Katrina smiled like fools. They started running, shouting "Open the gates! Open the gates!"

Ismira followed them. "What is it? Who is it?"

Almost immediately, she could here King Orik, King Orrin, Queen Nasuada, and Arya gasp in disbelief and rush after her and her parents.

Arya reached her of course, but instead of waiting for the doors, she leaped up onto the roofs and jumped the wall. "Damn elves." Muttered King Orik when he reached them.

The gates opened, and her parents rushed through without another word. When she reached the gates, her father and mother where throwing themselves onto the Rider as if they were long lost friends with Arya jumping all over the dragon. Ismira looked up at the blue dragon, and was afraid. The dragon looked down at her and lowered her head. The dragon lowered its eye to her.

"_Roran-cousin-of-my-Rider, is this the pup that was in your arms when last we met?_" In her mind, Ismira thought, "_Cousin of my Rider? But, that would mean."_

The Rider stepped forward. His armor tinted blue in the bright sun, blue like the sea. His helmet in the shape of a roaring dragon. His sword and scabbard as blue as the dragon's shoulders, a strange symbol on the scabbard. The armor, the helmet, the sword. It all looked familiar to Ismira. She had seen this man before, but could not remember where.

The man removed his helmet, his pointed ears sharp against the dull of the wood and dirt around him. Arya finally climbed down from the dragon, and approached the Rider. The strange Rider of the sapphire dragon kneeled, and spoke in the Ancient Language.

Arya kneeled next to him and whispered something in his ear. The Rider seemed to shiver with both fear and delight with what she said. He returned the favor by leaning into her ear and whispering into her ear. She shivered as well, then stood. Ismira saw a sheen of tears threatening to escape her eyes from what he said.

The Rider stood, and said hello to the Queen and the Kings. There was much exchange of pleasantries, but she continually heard the name of her uncle. "_But that's impossible. My uncle Eragon cannot be in Algeasia. He banished himself from our borders. Didn't he?"_ Ismira pondered.

When the Rider stepped forward again, he looked directly at Ismira. Ismira blushed and looked away, averting her gaze from the almost dragon gaze that this elf looked at her with. Then he spoke.

"Come now, niece. Is that any way to treat family? Has my brother Roran taught you nothing?"

"_Niece? Brother? Family? But that would mean." _She paused in her thoughts, looked the Rider in the eye, and asked, "Uncle Eragon? Is that really you?"

"In the flesh, young one, and how you have grown." He replied with a smile. "Now is someone going to invite me in or should I stay in the outpost at the mouth of Palancar Valley?"

Everyone immediately invited him into the manor. All except Ismira. She stayed behind and wondered, "_What on Earth is going on? Why is he here?"_ Little did she see that Saphira had brought with her an egg. And that egg was what was going to change her life forever.

**So Eragon is back home where he began and Saphira has an egg. Wonder what could happen. **

**Please leave comments below, and thank you for all your support.**


	3. Reunion

**Title: Revelations**

**Author: Marik 18**

**Summary: Ismira Katrinadaughter has been raised knowing that her uncle is gone forever. But when an egg is introduced into her life, someone is taken from her. Now, will she risk everything to bring him back, or will the threats of the land make sure she never sees him, or home, again? I do not own anything, and many spoilers on the way. If you have not read the series, where is your shame?**

**A/N: Thanks for the comments and the views guys. Your support is well received, and I thank you for everything. I can't offer prizes, but first person to send me the answer of the riddle without looking into the book, I congratulate you. You have a better memory than I do. Now, onto what you came here for.**

Chapter 2: Reunion

Ismira walked behind the crowd, the great Eragon Kingslayer being the center of attention. Saphira was again being feared and admired for her gem like scales.

Ismira couldn't believe it. Her uncle, who had the capacity and the capability to fly out here and see her himself all these years, decided now, on the eve of her 18th name day to decide to visit. He may be the great hero of Alagaësia, the Kingslayer, but who was he to decide to visit the day before she was going to announce her engagement to Jeromir. Who did he think he was?

Ismira fumed over his sudden appearance, but more over her reaction to his visit. He was her uncle, and the only way she ever saw him was in an elvin tunic, his sword in its scabbard at his hip, his armor slowly being added to all these years in the background, a scroll in his hand, or sitting and writing in a scroll. He would often give her riddles to puzzle through, and when she got the answer, he would congratulate her on her wisdom and intelligence, then say something about it not coming from her father.

She smiled at the memory. Those were by far the best gifts that he could have given her. Not the horses or the gems or the ponies or even the flowers from wherever he had decided to live. Still, he had never come before, so why now?

When she walked into the "throne room" of the manor, she saw everyone sitting around Eragon as he told stories of his new home. She smiled at the story of how a young, wild dragon decided to fight Eragon for being a fool when it came to how to hunt. "_Oh how Saphira must have beaten that youngling."_

"_As a matter of fact. I did. The youngling was in his cave for a week licking his wounds before he came out and apologized. Of course, Eragon only let me at him after the youngling healed again from the fight that he had with Eragon. Your uncle has grown strong in our time away, youngling." _Ismira looked out the window to Saphira, who was watching her.

She looked to the small crowd of kings, queens, Riders' and family to see if anyone else heard Saphira. Since Eragon was listening to failed hunting attempts and various stories form Orik, Nasuada, and Orrin, they hadn't.

"_Saphira, why did he choose now to come? Why didn't he come sooner? My father often wept openly when he would call and tell me riddles."_ Ismira looked to Saphira, speaking to her with emotions and images the same way she had learned to speak with Fírnen. "_I wish I could tell you young one. How it would put me at ease if I could. But I cannot. I have sworn an oath in the Ancient Language. But, look to him, and tell me what you see. I have often been curious to how two-legged see him."_

Ismira looked to her uncle. Being part elvish due to his bond with Saphira, the pointed ears were obvious. The broad shoulders told countless stories of battles that had been raged and wars that had been fought. Even in his armor, his shoulders looked like her fathers. Tense while relaxed and ready to leap into a fight whenever it appears. His chest rose and fell slowly, but had a slight hitch to it. "_Was he hurt while you were away? Or is the armor just heavy?" _Ismira asked. "_It is the armor. He denies it is heavy since the metal itself isn't heavy to him, but the amount of heat it keeps in is what is laboring his breathing._" Ismira nodded. She had tried on armor once. Three to be exact. One made by elves as a gift for this year. One made by the dwarves for the same reason. And one made by Horst and his sons, again for her 18th name day. She had tried them all on the week before. While the elves' armor was the lightest and the dwarves' armor the strongest and Horsts' armor the most valuable for family reasons, all kept in heat like nothing else.

Ismira showed Saphira the memory. They both had a silent laugh about it, since it was the truth. Ismira kept studying her uncle, oblivious that all the eyes in the room were now on her, wondering what she was doing.

Ismira saw scars on his wrists and cheeks, from training with young ones where desperate attempts to get a hit in succeeded. She saw callouses from wielding his sword so much. She saw muscle under the armor. She saw his daily life in this new place where he made the Dragon's Keep. Then, she looked into his eyes, and was surprised that the brown eyes were staring back.

Eragon smiled at the young girl. "Even though you did not speak a word, I am connected to Saphira at all times, just as Arya is to Fírnen." Arya just blushed, since she knew as well as he that both dragons were flying somewhere in the Spine to get some "alone time".

Ismira blushed, and tried to apologize. "Why do you apologize for studying a man you have never seen in person before?" With a slight rebellious smile that she was known for, she said, "For not offering to help get that burning hot, heavy armor off." Everyone started laughing, Orik loudest of all.

Eragon finally removed his armor, and Ismira noticed the hitch in his breathing disappear. She smiled, then sat among the many people she had come to call family around her uncle. Arya sat across from him, silent, but admiration in her eyes. Ismira knew. She did not need to look into the woman's mind. That is the same look her mother gave her father and that she had been told she gave Jeromir.

Eragon began telling them of their journey to find new lands. They had found them almost a month after he left by both boat and on foot. The land was beautiful, with new trees, new flowers, new fruit, and even new animals for the dragons to hunt and eat. And since it seemed that for every "large boar" as he referred to them was killed and eaten, another took its place. The dragons were happy, and he had built a keep of stone in the forest for the Riders' to train in. He constantly made repairs and spells and wards so that the keep grew bigger with the largest dragon, who happened to be Saphira when she wanted to walk in the halls, and that the stone would not scratch when the younger dragons made foolish decisions to impress their Riders'.

Eragon smiled, then slowly excused himself. When everyone began wondering what he was doing, he simply responded with, "I haven't been home in 17 years. Let me see my friends before you test me on whatever it is you wish to learn." As he walked to the door, he called Ismira to walk with him.

"Would you like another riddle, niece?" Ismira got really excited, waiting for the best part of her uncle.  
She walked by his side, waiting for the riddle that always got her thinking. He looked at her, and said, "I think it's time we truly tested that mind your mother gave you. Ready?" She nodded. "At night, I am there. But with light, I am lost without being stolen. What am I?" Ismira laughed a little and responded without a missing a beat, "The stars."

Eragon nodded and said, "It seems you have answered all of my human riddles." Ismira eyes sparkled with excitement. "So does this mean I can have an elvish riddle?" "You aren't ready for elvish riddles just yet, young one, but I can give you a dwarvish riddle. In fact, I came up with this riddle myself."

Ismira could barely hold in her excitement. A dwarvish riddle? Those had been almost impossible according to Orik. She couldn't wait for this.

Finally Eragon spoke the riddle. "Strong and stout. Thirteen stars upon his brow. Living stone shaping dead earth into dead stone."

Ismira nearly stopped in her tracks. "Uncle? What on earth does that even mean?" He smiled. "When I came up with it, Orik told me that any dwarf child could figure it out without a second thought. Saphira said that the dragons could do the same. Can you figure it out?"

He continued walking, exiting the manor and saying hello to everyone he knew. Horst and his wife Elain, his sons, Albriech and Baldor, as well as their young daughter Hope. Hope and Ismira were close friends, and it was weird for Ismira when Hope started speaking of Eragon as if he were another noble man that visited to try and court her.

They offered to house him as long as they could, but Eragon kindly refused, since he had to visit all of the country to see things for himself. They nodded, and again thanked him for healing Hope as a baby. He smiled at them, and simply stated, "It's as I said before. My hands were to bloody for the work, but I'm happy I was able to do so."

Eragon led Ismira all over Carvahall, both friends of old and their children either thanking him or aweing over the great Eragon Shadeslayer, Eragon Kingslayer, and Eragon Bromson. Ismira just fussed over the riddle.

At the end of the day, Eragon returned to the manor, where the others had returned from their own duties. When everyone was together, Ismira finally spoke up. "Ok Uncle. I give up. What is the answer to your riddle?" He smiled as everyone minus Roran and Katrina asked what he meant.

"Fine. I will ask all of you. Orik, you cannot answer. Once you think you have the answer, lay your blade, or your hammer, down on the table. Orik will tell you if you are right or not." Everyone nodded. Arya, Nasuada, Orrin, Katrina, and even Roran drew their weapons in preparation. "The riddle goes as such," Eragon said when he saw everyone ready for this. "Strong and stout. Thirteen stars upon his brow. Living stone shaping dead earth into dead stone."

Even Arya seemed confused of this. But she was still the first one to put her blade down. Orik and Eragon nodded as Ismira watched dumbfounded that the elf needed only minutes to come up with an answer. In order, it was then Nasuada, Katrina, Orrin, then after 4 hours of thought on his part and everyone else eating and spending a good time, Roran's hammer was put on the table.

Everyone again sat around the table. Orik sat and waited a few minutes then said, "Now, around the table, tell me your answers." Arya, being the first with an answer, said, "A dwarf king making a fortress." Ismira berated herself at not thinking that herself, but was surprised when Orik shook his head no. Nasuada pulled her blade from the table, simply saying, "I had the same guess." Katrina said, "An elven spellcaster?" Orik shook his head again. Orrin looked at Orik, a smile on his face, and said, "It is simple. The answer is the gods." Orik again, for the third time, shook his head. Orrin seemed dumbfounded, but laughed and said, "Well, this riddle sure is a good one."

Roran smiled. "I think I have the right answer. But this riddle sure is a great one." Orik smiled. "Well thank your brother, Stronghammer. He came up with it during the war." Everyone looked at Eragon. He smiled, put his hands up, and said, "Guilty as charged."

Everyone laughted, their small goblets of tea, wine, ale, and mead shaking a bit in their hands from their movements. Orik looked to Roran and asked, "What is your answer, Stronghammer?" Ismira looked to her father, wondering if he had the answer. She doubted it. An elf couldn't get the answer to this, why would her father who spent more time in the fields and the training grounds than in the library?

Roran smiled. "I say that the answer is a dwarf king…" He was cut off by Saphira's roar. A loud thundering sound flew by overhead, following by what appeared to be the sound of a falling mountain outside the walls. Saphira blanketed the sky with bright blue flames. Eragon and Arya immediately ran to the balcony. "Saphira!" Arya called, afraid for the female dragon. Eragon just stood there. Arya soon followed suit when Fírnen appeared overhead and landed behind Saphira.

Eragon seemed enraged after a few minutes when Saphira calmed down enough to stop blinding the people and possibly burn Carvahall to the ground, and instead fly out of Palancar Valley to destroy any mountain she wished. He barged back inside, fury clear on his face. "What is going on?" "What happened?" "Eragon, why is she upset?" "Brother, why was she threatening to burn my home to the ground."

Eragon ignored all the questions, choosing instead to put his armor on and put Brisingr around his waist. He drew his sword, then, while studying the blade, almost as if in prayer, Eragon said "Someone stole Saphira's egg." Arya went pale when she heard the news, then ran and started putting her armor on with her sword Támerlein in her hand when she returned.

"What do you mean her egg was stolen?" Katrina asked? Ismira looked just as confused, if not just as worried as her mother. "I mean to say that while Saphira was asleep with Firnen, someone went up to them and stole the egg that we brought." Arya looked at him, almost in shock. "There was no Rider ready to fly back, and I missed you. Shoot me in the heart with an arrow for being so careless when I wanted to see the woman I …"

Jeromir barged in, a large, oval sea green stone in his hands. Dark green veins ran in all directions on the gem. Jeromir kept walking up to the group. Eragon and Arya stood very still, swords slowly lowering to the boy. Orik lifted his hammer and was ready to fight, even if he had no armor. Orrin and Roran slowly walked forward, sword and hammer in hand. Nasuada and Katrina slowly moved to the back of the group, their daggers ready in case the boy somehow managed to get passed the Riders, the dwarves, and the men.

"Look what I just got, Ismira. Some guy was offering it, and I thought it would be nice if I gave it to you." He kept walking to Ismira, oblivious to the weapons aimed at him and the eyes staring him down.

But Ismira did see them, and ran to stand in front of Jeromir. "It wasn't him. It wasn't him. I swear it, it wasn't him." Eragon just stepped forward, eyes filled with rage at this boy. "Jeromir," Ismira said, turning to him. "Yes my love?" The boy responded, a smile on his face. Everyone stopped where they were, a few angered that he dare say that after "stealing" the dragon egg, a few just dumbfounded at this brave declaration. Ismira just looked scared for his life. "Run, Jeromir." He looked confused, till he finally noticed the weapons and their wielders. "Jeromir." He looked down at the girl, a year younger than he, that he had fallen for the moment he met her and only wanted to please her and make her his, fear clear in her eyes. "Run!"

Jeromir turned and started running for his life.

He didn't get far.

He was cut off at the door by Arya, Eragon holding him with his sword at his back. "Boy, for the crime of stealing a dragon egg, you are coming with us." Eragon then grabbed rope and tied up Jeromir.

"Uncle, wait." Ismira called, running after him. Eragon turned back towards his niece, then gave Arya the boy to take to the dragons. She held the dragon egg in her hands, and led the boy out. "What is it, niece?"

When she caught up to him, she caught her breath, then pleaded for his life. "Uncle, please. He would never steal anything. I've known him all my life. I know him. He would never steal. I was going to marry him. Please. Let him go." Eragon heard all this, then looked out the window to Saphira, who had just returned from destroying parts of the Spine away from any human, elf, or Urgal cities or camps.

"Do you see her?" Eragon asked. Ismira looked out the window to Saphira. "She is broken that her egg was stolen. And as soon as she sees your boy, it will take everything that I, Arya, and Firnen have to convince her not to kill him on the spot. Be patient, and he will return."

Ismira ran to her room in tears. Nothing could heal the tear that had just formed in her heart. She ran to her bed, wept into her pillow, and waited. When she saw that the dragons had flown off, she stood, and walked to her closet. "This isn't over, Jeromir. I will bring you back. And I know just where to start." Ismira said to no one in particular, pulling the sword out of the sheath that she had hidden in a secret room in her closet that Arya had made for her. "I will bring you back. Or die trying."


	4. A New Dawn

**Title: Revelations**

**Author: Marik 18**

**Summary: Ismira Katrinadaughter has been raised knowing that her uncle is gone forever. But when an egg is introduced into her life, someone is taken from her. Now, will she risk everything to bring him back, or will the threats of the land make sure she never sees him, or home, again? I do not own anything, and many spoilers on the way. If you have not read the series, where is your shame?**

Chapter 3: A New Dawn

Sheathing the sword, she hung it back up and looked around the secret room. All three sets of her armor were here, as well as the blades that the dwarves, elves, and Horst had made for her. She looked at each set of armor, and decided to make a mix. Around her chest would be the elven breastplate, since it was the strongest and the lightest. The skirt would be from the elves as well, since they allowed her most maneuverability. She would wear the dwarven grieves and bracers would defend her legs and arms, as well as the gloves for her fingers. And she would wear Horst's helmet, since it carried the most value to her. Horst, as well as all of Carvahall, would protect her mind. The elves made sure of it.

She looked at her new suit of armor. Close fitting, allowing for maneuverability, thanks to the elves. Strong and sturdy so that no lucky shots would penetrate and limit her movements from cuts to her legs and arms, thanks both to the elves and the dwarves. And her neck would be defended by Horst's, Baldor's, and Albriech's tireless work and attention to detail would deliver on that promise. And the dwarves, elves, as well as Arya herself, cast spells on her armor to better defend her.

She was glad that her father had her train with all suits of armor. She only had all three armors for a few short weeks since they were gifts for her 18th name day. She had trained for hours, first getting the armor broken in, and then fighting with it. Already her teachers were amazed that she had mastered three different types of armor in such a short amount of time. Her mother argued that a lady shouldn't be having armor and weapons, then in her lessons, would congratulate Ismira on a job well done. "You never know when a threat will pop up. Best be prepared for the worst and be disappointed your preparations were for naught than to be overrun by a force you were not expecting," her mother would always tell her.

"Now," she thought to herself, "what weapon should I take?" She picked up the elven blade, the leaf filled handle fitting perfectly in her palm. She swung the blade in a few practice strokes, liking the feel of the blade. Sheathing the blade and returning it to the wall, she picked up the dwarven blade, the perfectly corded handle fitting in her palm almost as perfectly. She did the same practice strokes, and felt the same of the blade. Returning it to its resting spot, she picked up the blades that Baldor and Albriech had made for her. Looking like the elven blade, they instead were curved ever so slightly, giving them an extra inch in length. They designed the blade to appear as elven as possible, but with steel mined right in Palancar Valley. The steel shone brightly in the dim light, the handle and pommel showing true to its origin despite its look. In the pommel, there was the exact honey onyx's that she asked to be put in the pommel. Not able to hold magic, but so rare, they might as be dragon scales.

She smiled at the craftsmanship, and took both swords. Moving through a few practice strokes, she again felt the delight of holding weapons that would astonish any man. Putting both swords in their sheath, she took the weapons and put them in their place. One at her hip, the hilt popping out of her left hip, and one over her left shoulder. She smiled as she picked up her favorite shield, thinking to herself, "I can't go out into the big, bad world all with no protection. It could be dangerous for a girl like me." Her smile grew wider at realizing that no one except her Uncle's half-brother Murtagh could possibly defeat her with the extensive training she has received form the elves and the dwarves.

Taking a deep breath, she remembered back to her sparring lessons.

"_Slowly. Feel the blade as a part of yourself. Feel at peace." Ismira concentrated on finishing off a slow stroke that would go right through an enemy's heart. She felt proud of herself when her imaginary foe fell, utterly defeated by a girl. "Well done, Ismira." She looked over to Arya, and her other elven teacher, Vanir. Orik stood by as well, watching carefully._

_She smiled, and bowed to her three masters. They returned the favor, and when they all rose, she asked, "So when will I be able to spar with one of you?" They all smiled. Orik even laughed a little. "It would be mine honor to spar with the daughter of Roran Stronghammer." Orik said with a twinkle in his eye. Ismira expected to get a real challenge out of the dwarven king. And she did. The experienced warrior managed to dodge, block, or parry any attack she could deal at her speed. The elves always gave advice during the sparring._

"_Remember, Ismira. He is an advanced warrior. He is proficient with that hammer. Let him swing and miss. He'll tire faster. You are smaller and faster. Let him waste his only advantage over you by swinging and missing." Vanir would advise. The young Ismira would try it, and would seem to be winning, until she remembered Orik also used a shield._

_For 2 years, she sparred with Orik. Orik won most of their spars, and he would allow Ismira to win some as well. After winning another spar, she took a deep breath, looked to the dwarf, and said, "I think I'm ready for you to stop holding back." Oriik looked her dead in the eye, and humor and joyous feeling hidden under his gaze of stone. "Do you understand what you ask for? I do not think you are ready for mine true strength." He put his hammer down head first and leaned on the pommel. The elves looked at each other a bit worried. "I understand what I ask for. I have heard tale of your great strength, and I wish to see if I can best it myself." _

"_Child, you do not understand. Orik is a warrior king who rules in a time of peace. Asking him to go all out on you would be like asking Fírnen to blow fire on your home because you think tar won't burn." Ismira looked to the worried elven woman, her emotions plain as day on her face. "I know what I ask. I know that for the first few months, if not the first year, I won't be able to best a warrior. But I have to try. If I do this, then I know that I have the metal in me to do anything in the world. Even take down a dragon." Arya smiled slightly. "_I wonder what the elf is thinking right now."_ Ismira pondered._

"_Very well. But only for a few seconds, Orik. No need to attack her." "I know what I'm doing, elf. I'm not as stone-headed as I look." Ismira took her position opposite her dwarven enemy. She studied him and all his flaws. How he favored his left leg when he went in to strike. How he always looked around to make sure no more threats appeared. "_Must be from the wars."_ Ismira thought to herself. _

_They circled for a few minutes, waiting for the other to make the first move. Ismira couldn't wait that long. She charged forward, sword already arcing down. Orik put his shield up to deflect the attack. Once his eyes were covered by the shield, she twisted her wrist and turned, bringing the sword instead from slashing down to instead go around the shield and pierce the dwarf in the mid riff. His armor would protect him of course, but it would still hurt, not including his pride._

_Ismira turned full circle before she saw the hammer already in full swing coming at her. She tried desperately to parry, but just ended up deflecting the blow to her shield. The full force of the attack rattled her sword out of her hand and arced up into her shoulder. The rest left a bruise on her upper arm._

_Ismira dropped the shield and started crying from the pain. Orik immediately regretted his swing, put his hammer down, and went to make sure the child was ok. Roran and Katrina, upon hearing their daughter's cries of pain, rushed to their training circle. Roran demanded to know what happened while Katrina rushed to her daughter's side and held her. Ismira, crying from the pain in her mother's arms, could not speak, so Orik told them. Roran roared at him, asking him how a dwarf could be as stupid as to attack a 12 yr. old girl full on. Katrina just comforted the crying girl until she could speak. The elves were silent, even as Roran demanded to know why they did not stop Orik from this._

_When Ismrira spoke up, she surprised everyone with what she said._

"_Orik," she whispered. Everyone turned towards her. "Ismira, I am terribly sorry for that. I did not intend to harm you, but I have forgotten the limits of mine strength." Ismira just laughed at the bumbling dwarf. "No you didn't," she said. "That wasn't your full strength."_

_Roran's mouth dropped. Katrina tried to stifle a giggle and a smile. Orik was just as surprised as the girl's father. Her reaction to her wounds was even enough to get an eyebrow raised from both elves._

"_What do you mean sweetheart?" Her mother asked. Ismira just looked up at her mother and said, "I have heard stories of how daddy fought in the war. How he caved in skulls and broke bones and even killed men instantly with a hard enough blow to the back. He started fighting with that hammer during the attack on Carvahall. Of what I've heard of dwarves, they start fighting with hammer's and axes when they are about my age. And Orik is nowhere near my age. So since I still breathe and only have bruises, I know he didn't use his full strength."_

_The elves nodded. Arya was the first to speak. "Very well done, Ismira. You truly are wiser than your father when he was twice your age. And your uncle at your age... wherever he is." Ismira saw the unmistakable lost look in Arya's eyes that she always got when she spoke of Eragon. Vanir nodded his consent, and said, "The fact that he waited to swing until both your sword and your shield were able to help defend you speaks for itself. Were it an enemy or a soldier during a war, he would've gone straight for your knees before you even got the chance to twist your wrist for the fake-over."_

_Roran apologized to Orik and the elves for his outburst. "I understand why you reacted as such. I would do the same for mine child if she were hurt." Orik said. "As do we." Roran turned to the elves when they spoke. "Since more children have started being born, any harm to them might as well be a declaration of war for us." Arya said._

_Everyone laughed at that. "Enough training for one day. Once you've healed, we will return to continue your training." Arya said. Ismira reluctantly nodded, knowing that since the ambassador, the king, and the Rider queen had their own responsibilities, they rarely came as it was. That night, she watched from her spot at the table as the dwarf and the elves sat side by side and ate together with nothing more than a slight bumping of the elbows when too much drink had been drunk._

Ismira smiled at the memory. She eventually managed to take a full on hit from Orik, as well as from Vanir and Arya, and got nothing more than a bruise that she did not want healed with magic. She remembered those days of training, and held them close to her heart. She had fought with every warrior that had fought in the war that still lived in Carvahall, and had managed to come out on top. Besides the Riders', there was no one in Alagaësia who could best her.

Throwing her shield over her back and over her second sword, Ismira snuck down the hidden stairs to the stables, sneaking past the guards in the dark of night. Walking to her favorite mare, who was sired by his father's horse Snowfire, who was her uncle's before his and his father's before his. She smiled up at the mare, and said, "Are you ready Amethyst? We're gonna go find Jeromir."

"Not dressed like that, you're not."

Ismira jumped slightly at her father's words. She turned to find him at the entrance of the stables, saddle and bags in hand.

"Father. Please. I must find him. I love him. You know he would never steal anything. You know that as well as you know that I would rather die than take anything that was stolen."

"I know sweetheart. I know. But you are not going out dressed like that."

Ismira was confused. "And why not? Who's gonna stop me?"

Roran smiled at his daughters' rebellious nature. He remembered a time when he acted the same. "You're precious wisdom. If you go riding out like that, anyone with a knife is going to know your highborn, and either take you prisoner for a ransom if their smart, or kill you for anything worth a good amount of gold if their stupid."

Ismira had to admit that her father was right. She had been so focused on finding Jeromir, she forgot that she'd be going into the world of men instead of empty and open landscape.

"Then what am I supposed to do, father? I can't wait for them to torture him to try and get a confession out of him. You know he'll confess to anything if he thinks it'll get him to me, especially if their causing him pain."

He nodded his head. "I know. But you need to cover your armor. There was a reason I asked for it to be so close fitting."

He then pulled forth a shirt, a pair of breeches, and a cloak. "I also had theses made. The cloak is modified just in case you wanted to use Baldoor's and Albreich's swords. And you'll need supplies. Hence the bedroll, backpack, and saddlebags on your saddle."

Ismira's eyes grew glossy with the threat of tears. She ran to her father and gave him a huge hug. He returned the favor, then started loading up the supplies on her horse. Ismira walked to the side, took off her shield and sword, and put the new clothes on, leaving the hood of the cloak down. Ismira noticed a weird shaped case leaning against the front next to a quiver of arrows. "Father?" Roran turned towards her, still putting the supplies on her horse. "What is this?"

Roran smiled. "Remember those archery lessons we had you take before you decided you wanted a sword and shield?" She nodded. When she was 6, her father asked an elf, a dwarf, and an Urgal to teach her how to shoot. She had learned a lot from them, and still needed to learn more, but decided when on her 10th name day that she wanted to fight with a sword and shield instead of a bow. He parents allowed her wish, as long as she still practiced with her bow and finished learning from her teachers. She had finally learned everything she could a month after her 11th name day.

Walking over to the case, Roran picked it up, turned towards her and said, "I asked Fisk to study the bows that your teachers used, and make one for you." He opened the case. Inside, a bow that looked elven in design and shape shone with silver inlays of her home. When she picked it up, the draw was as strong as a dwarven bow, but as easy as a human bow. She looked down at the weapon and asked, "Why?"

Roran just looked at his daughter with tears in his eyes and said, "I would rather know my daughter was fighting against men that I would sooner see killed off, than have her not know how to fight and suffer through what her mother suffered." Silent tears escaped his eyes as he remembered seeing her after so long.

Ismira just hugged her father again. "Thank you." Taking the quiver, she threw it on her back so that the arrows were over her right shoulder, adjusted her shield to accommodate, got on her horse, and rode with her father to the front gates. Before she left, as the sun was rising, she turned to her father and said, "Don't tell mother. Please. She'll only worry about me."

"I'm going to tell her since she is my wife. And she might worry, but it won't be as frustrating as watching her worry about not knowing anything about where you went."

She nodded, put up the hood on her cloak, and said, "Thank you father. For teaching me and loving me so very much." They embraced one last time. As she started turning away, Roran called out, "Wait."

Ismira turned towards her father, who rode up with a small sack in his hand. Giving it to his daughter, he said "You might need some money."

She smiled at her father, hugged her once more, and then continued forward on her journey. As the sun rose, she thought, "_How fitting. A new dawn for a new adventure."_

**A/N: Thank you again for all the support. Please any comments you wish below. I want to hear your ideas about how this is going. Thanks.**


	5. Strangers

**Title: Revelations**

**Author: Marik 18**

**Summary: Ismira Katrinadaughter has been raised knowing that her uncle is gone forever. But when an egg is introduced into her life, someone is taken from her. Now, will she risk everything to bring him back, or will the threats of the land make sure she never sees him, or home, again? I do not own anything, and many spoilers on the way. If you have not read the series, where is your shame?**

Chapter 4: Strangers

After walking far enough from the walls, Ismira mounted onto Amethyst, and began riding out. She rode for a few hours before noticing the old tower made by the Riders'. Being raised with Fírnen and Arya, she did not call it Utgard Mountain, as the locals called it. She instead called it by what the last free Riders' called after the fall of the famous Vrael at this location when Galbatorix was conquering the world to make his Empire. "Ristvak'baen."

She stopped on the last little hill before going out of Palancar Valley, and silently gave her respects to all the fallen dragons and Riders. She then turned her head outward, and slowly began lowering out of Palancar Valley into the rest of the country. Into the rest of the world.

She rode all night, taking it slow at first, but always prepared. That first night, nothing happened. The same could be said about that first week of travel. When she got close to the city, she decided to keep away from Yazuac, just from the stories from her uncle's first months of travel. She rode around the city, deciding to stay away from what was a horrible thought of other men.

That night, as she lay around her small fire, getting comfortable around her little camp, Amethyst's ears picked up. "What's wrong, girl? What do you hear?"

"What does it matter what she hears? I want to know how you got a beast that pure bred."

Ismira immediately rose to her feet, grabbing her sword and unsheathing the sword at her hip. "Who's there?" She looked in the direction of the speaker, keeping her shield in front of her body, her right arm outstretched towards the darkness where the voice was heard.

"Huh. Quick reflexes. Elven armament. Bow case on the horse. Thief?" The mysterious voice came from her left, and Ismira immediately moved to face that direction. "What do you want? Who are you?"

The stranger walked into the light. Long black hair down in a tail behind his head. A pair of stormy grey eyes looking over the camp for any sign of friends. He stood a full head taller than her,, round ears showing that he was human. A yew bow was over his shoulder, a quiver of arrows peaking over his left shoulder. A blued steel sword was on his hip, the hand and a half hilt showing that he fought with a shield when he had the chance, but was equally able to fight with both hands on the sword.

"Who are you. What do you want with me?" Ismira kept behind the fire, keeping it behind her and the stranger. The stranger looked up at her and gave a soft smile. "I didn't want to stay in the city either." The stranger turned around and whisteled, and a horse came into the light, and he put the horse down.

Ismira didn't keep her eyes off of the stranger, watching him very closely just in case he tried anything. The stranger just continued to remove his saddle and saddlebags off of the horse, brushing the horse down as he did so.

Once his horse was finished and taken cared for, the stranger took his weapons off and put them down next to his things, relaxing onto the saddlebags for a comfortable seat.

The stranger had a black cloak around him, his hood down for the meanwhile. From the limited light, Ismira saw that he only were shoulder guards, gauntlets, grieves, and a helmet that currently lay in the pile of stuff he lay on.

"Who are you?" Ismira demanded. She remained in her ready position, completely prepared to jump over the flames and strike the stranger if he proves to be a threat. The stranger just smiled, and looked into Ismira's eyes. "Relax, girl. I am not a threat. It's just better close to cities to have numbers, no matter how well armed you are. Believe me. Without a doubt, we have been seen and there is at least one thief of a kind coming to us to take our things. Some will ask for gold, others will try to kill us in our sleep and take our things. Trust me, your safer with me around.

Ismira slowly lowered her weapons, and sighed. "Fine. I believe you." She sheathed her sword, and turned to put her shield back among her things, smiling to herself. _"The fool believed that all of my equipment was elven. I can't believe Fisk, Baldor and Albriech did it. I'm so proud of them."_ She sat among her things and began looking up into the stars, thinking of home, wondering how her mother must be feeling about all of this. Then her thoughts turned to Jeromir. "_Oh how they must be torturing him now."_

She then unknowingly began speaking. "The stars sure are beautiful. I hope that Jeromir can see them."

The stranger looked up at her and smiled, then looked up at the stars. "No matter where your Jeromir is, I'm sure he is looking up at the stars as well, and thinking of you." Ismira looked over at the stranger, then smiled at him. "Thank you for your kind words."

They both soon fell asleep, nothing interrupting their sleep. In the morning, Ismira woke to find the stranger already saddling up.

"Wait, where are you going?"

"It is dangerous to stay this close to the city. I'm going down south to Ilirea to speak to Queen Nasuada about some personal matters."

"Wait, your going to Ilirea? I was heading in that direction as well. I needed to speak to the Queen as well."

Since neither offered voice for their true intentions to go to the Capitol, neither decided to ask the other, so the man waited for her to saddle her horse, then continued on his way south, Ismira close behind.

Once back on the road, Ismira pulled up the hood of her cloak, as did the stranger. They both remained quiet, and didn't speak to each other or to any other traveller that they saw or passed by. Ismira began studying the strange man, wondering what his story was and what he was doing going down to the capitol. "_Could it be that bandits are raiding his home? Maybe it's something else entirely." _

The man stayed silent, but by the way his head continued looking off into the horizon in a single direction, it seemed that he had some business that way, but did not want anyone to go with him. Ismira slowly began riding that way, to see what the man would do.

"Where do you think you are going, young lady?" The man continued to ride forward, not even looking back.

"Oh. Well.. You kept looking that way."

"What does it matter if I look that way?" He slowly turned his horse around and stopped. "For all you know, I could be looking for my team of thieves and assassin's to come so that we may kill you and take your things. Do not trust someone you just met." The man turned his horse back around and continued riding forward.

Ismira was dumbfounded. Not only had the man gone so far as to hint at the possibility of a threat to her life, but he reminded her of both her father and her uncle.

"Who is this man?"


End file.
